Retrospective
by ilarual
Summary: Four years after their graduation from Shibusen, Maka and Soul attend a party hosted by Kid. Reminiscence plus alcohol turns out to be a heady combination.


**A/N-** Hey Soul Eater fandom! Long time no write! I've been deeply invested in a number of different fandoms for the last couple years, and I'm probably not back to SE... but I was commissioned by Epic (aka read-and-riot on tumblr) to write a fic about Soul and Maka getting tipsy at a party and drunk flirting. What ended up happening when I sat down to write said fic was... a pretty meandering path to that, but it was really interesting to revisit SoMa again after many years away.

Anyway, enjoy this relic from fandom past, y'all!

* * *

If there was one thing Maka could be grateful for, she reflected as she sipped at her sangria, it was the Thompson sisters.

Lord Death— more commonly known to the world at large as The Entity Formerly Known As Death the Kid, and to his friends as simply Kid— had a fantastic venue for throwing parties, but next to no knowledge of what actually constituted a good party. Maka couldn't help but grin as she reflected on the first party Kid had thrown back in their school days. Semi-formal attire (or what had passed as semi-formal when they were fourteen, anyway), sparkling fruit juice, and a sampling of Soul's eclectic vinyl collection was not exactly what any of them had imagined to be a good time. Even as buttoned-up as she'd been as a teenager, she had still found the whole affair stodgy at best.

After that half-hearted attempt at unwinding, Liz and Patti had forcibly taken over any and all attempts to put the massive ballroom in the Gallows to use, and the results showed. Patti had absolutely fantastic taste as a decorator— not that it was hard to improve on the black-on-white-on-black theme Kid had going— and as for Liz…

Well, honestly, Maka thought Liz should probably go into event planning if or when she decided to retire from the whole soul-reaping gig. The food was fantastic, the drinks were strong and plentiful, and she'd had the good sense to collaborate with Soul to put together a playlist for the evening.

Speaking of Soul…

Maka looked around the ballroom, trying to spot where her weapon had wandered off to. A smile settled onto her lips when her eyes found him, standing off to the side and chatting with Harvar. It was good to see him socializing at these kinds of events.

 _You really have come a long way, haven't you, Soul?_

She took a long sip from her cup of sangria in order to disguise the fond smile she couldn't quite keep off her face. The truth of it was that they'd both come a long way since their academy days. The Last Death Scythe and his Grigori meister. Though of course, she'd been worried for awhile that she wouldn't bear that title long past graduation…

* * *

 _Four years ago…_

"You're going to wear a hole in the carpet if you keep pacing," Soul drawled.

Late afternoon sun streamed in through the ugly venetian blinds, newly spotless and dust-free because Even with a three-hour jittery cleaning spree, Maka hadn't managed to work off the nervous energy that had filled her from the moment she'd woken up that morning. Finally, once she had discovered to her horror that even after reorganizing the bookshelves, there was virtually nothing in their apartment left to tidy, she gone in search of other chores to devote herself to. Soul had intercepted her on her way to reorder his music collection, and she'd been left with nothing to do but try to work out her tension through movement.

Soul, in contrast, could not have looked more relaxed as he watched her go back and forth. His right leg was kicked up across his left, sock-clad heel braced against his knee, and his arms were crossed behind his head against the back of the sofa. He was the picture of casual grace, and it was _pissing her off._

"The carpet's ugly anyway," she growled. "Even if I _did_ wear a hole in it, that'd just be a great excuse to get it replaced."

Soul snorted. "Try telling that to the landlord. I don't think this carpet's been replaced since it was installed, and I'm pretty sure that was sometime in the late Jurassic."

The comment was funny, and a part of Maka wanted to laugh and let it go, but she was too worked up. "Ha ha," she deadpanned. "Just because _you'd_ rather go a week with no running water in the kitchen than have to have a confrontation doesn't mean the rest of us won't ask for what we're owed."

It was the kind of tart little barb that would've had Soul's hackles raising a few years earlier, but he had become almost obnoxiously chill as he matured. He raised his eyebrows, a slight show of surprise, but all he said was, "Wow, you really are tense. What's got you so worked up today?"

Maka shot him a sour look. "It's finals week," she snapped.

Soul scoffed. "It's _Friday_ of finals week. Of our senior year. And even with all the extra classes you took, your last test was _yesterday_ ," he pointed out. "And you've already been named valedictorian."

"Look, I don't wanna talk about this, can you just leave it alone?"

Soul gave her a slow, searching look. "Sure, fine. Whatever," he said, unfolding his limbs and rising from the couch with leonine grace before slouching off in the direction of his bedroom.

Maka wanted to throw a book at his head, infuriated by her inability to rattle that unflappable chill he'd developed, but she liked to think she'd become a little more gracious herself. Instead, she dropped down onto the warm spot on the couch he'd recently vacated with an irritated huff that did nothing to dissipate the itching beneath her skin. The fingers of her right hand tapped impatiently against the skin of her left arm, but it did no good, and after a few moments of relative stillness, through which the sound of Soul's door sliding quietly shut could be heard, she gave in to the urge to grab a throw pillow and scream into it at the top of her lungs.

"Aw, what's Maka-chan so cranky about today?"

The sudden voice next to her ear was enough to startle Maka into dropping the cushion.

"Blair!" she shrieked. "You scared me to death!"

Blair slid down from the back of the sofa and settled onto the seat beside Maka, giving a languid flick of her tail. "You're being silly, Maka-chan," she informed her frankly. "Being snippy at Soul-kun like you're a kitten again and not telling him what's really going on."

Maka gave Blair the same searing look she'd directed at Soul earlier, but the cat was not even slightly phased. "Who says there's anything 'really going on?'"

Blair grinned— as much as she could in cat form, anyway— and replied, "You can't fool me. And you can't fool Soul-kun either, not like you could years ago."

And just like that, Maka deflated. Blair had a bizarrely maternal air for someone who paraded around in the most skin-tight clothes she could find when she was in human form, and it was something Maka was particularly weak to. She sighed.

"I just… worry about being done with school," she admitted. "Most DWMA partnerships split up after graduation."

"Isn't that because most students are in the NOT class?" Blair pointed out.

She nodded, repressing another sigh. "Yes, but Soul's the Last Death Scythe and all. He's got a big fancy title, so he's got to work for Kid, and I'm not even sure what the hell I want to do… it's just a mess."

"Well, if you want Blair's opinion, since you're worried about something to do with your partner, the only way it's going to get better is to talk to him."

"But—!"

Blair shook her little furry head, looking as stern as a feline face could express. "You're too much like your papa, Maka-chan. You want your relationship to be perfect without having to talk about it, but it doesn't work like that."

As much as Maka did not want to swallow that particular pill, there was no un-hearing Blair's words once they were said.

"Fine," she groaned. "I'll go talk to him."

She hauled herself up from the couch and made her way in the direction of Soul's room. Before she abandoned the living room, however, she glanced back at the black cat who had happily curled up in the warm spot left on the couch (which, Maka suspected, might have been her whole objective all along). "Hey Blair?"

"Yes, Maka-chan?"

"Thanks."

* * *

 _Present…_

As it had turned out, talking her worries over with Soul had been the best course of action. A heart to heart between partners had led to a meeting with Kid, who had all but frothed at the mouth at the very thought of wielding a traditional scythe. He'd declared that Soul could fill a vacant death scythe's position of his choice, and assigned Maka as his long-term partner.

And they'd been inseparable ever since.

That thought had Maka upending her sangria and heading back to the drinks table with uneven steps for another glass of… something. Something strong.

Maka shook her head ruefully as she filled a cup from the punchbowl— and tossed in an extra ladle-full for good measure. She didn't usually drink much, but something about being back in Death City was making her nostalgic in all the most tender parts of her and she really wished she'd chosen something stronger than wine for her first couple of drinks. Soul wasn't the only one who had changed over the years, and being surrounded by the faces of school friends she'd hardly seen in almost half a decade was driving that home.

"Why the long face?"

Maka jumped at the sound of Liz's voice from right next to her, sloshing the rum punch right over the edge of the cup and all over the tablecloth.

"Yeesh, you're so quiet when you're not wearing heels!" she exclaimed. She reached for a napkin but her fingers fumbled with the thin paper until Liz peeled a few off the pile and handed them to her.

Liz shrugged, looking deeply unapologetic. "What can I say? I like it when Tsu's taller than me."

This was a difficult feat to achieve, because Liz— already the tallest member of Spartoi when they were in school— had grown another two inches by the time they had all graduated. Aside from the added height, though, Liz looked much the same as she had the last time Maka had seen her in person, though she did now wear her hair cropped several inches shorter.

"I can tell. You've looked smug all evening. I can't believe I didn't even know you guys were dating until this week."

"Yeah, I guess we've kinda drifted apart since our school days, haven't we?" That was enough to bring a remorseful look to Liz's deep blue eyes. "It's weird not having everybody all together anymore."

"No kidding. It feels like after everybody graduated we just kind of scattered all across the world. Lucky for you Tsubaki and Star stayed in Death City, though, huh?" She gave her friend a conspiratorial nudge with her elbow— or tried to, anyway. Mostly she just upset her own balance. Why was she so wobbly tonight?

Liz grinned. "Not just lucky for me," she said, nodding over to a sitting area where her sister was tossing grapes in Black*Star's mouth.

Maka looked back and forth between Liz and Patti for a confused moment before the penny dropped.

"Oh. _Ohhhh_. Patti and Black*Star? _Really?_ "

Liz let out an amused cackle. "Yeah, I know, right? I don't get it either, but it makes Patti happy so I've decided not to murder him."

"You're a better woman than me," Maka remarked.

Having finished mopping up the spilled punch, she raised her cup to her lips and took a sip, savoring the slight bite of alcohol on her tongue. A quick survey of the half-filled ballroom had a bittersweet feeling welling up in her chest. "It really seems like everyone's pairing off, doesn't it? You and Tsu, Kim and Jackie, apparently your sister and Black*Star of all people… things have changed a lot since the last time we were all together like this."

"Yeah, I'd say so," Liz said. "Anyway, how about you? I know you're stationed all the way in Sapporo, but surely there's somebody who's caught your eye."

Maka tried— she really did try— to keep her eyes from wandering to where Soul was standing, Kilik having now joined his and Harvar's conversation, but she couldn't help it.

Liz groaned. "Oh my god, _no_. Soul? _Still?_ You've got to be kidding."

"Huh?"

"I mean, the whole dumb teenage pining thing was cute when you were dumb teenagers, but for fuck's sake, Maka. You're— wait, how old are you now?"

"Twenty-two next month. What does that have to do with anything?"

Liz groaned, reaching for her own glass of punch. "Maka, you've been hung up on the same guy since you were, what, _twelve?_ Don't you think it's time to take a look at the rest of the field?"

"I'm not— I don't— I'm not _hung up_ on Soul!"

The protest sounded half-hearted even to her own ears.

"Please, you can't fool me," Liz scoffed. "I know the bond we have with our partners can be pretty intense, but what you have with Soul is different, and it's really obvious to pretty much everybody."

And maybe it was the amount of alcohol she'd consumed, or maybe it was just how good it felt to spend time with her old friends tonight, but Maka didn't have it in her to deny it. "Do you think it's obvious to him?" she asked plaintively.

"Only one way to find out," Liz said with a grin before handing Maka another cup full of punch.

* * *

Soul had a secret: he was a huge lightweight. He also had a tendency to try and hide this fact and save face in front of his friends. He wasn't enough of an idiot to think he could keep up with Black*Star or something insane like that, but he'd thought that drinking to keep pace with Harvar, at least, wouldn't be too much of a chore.

He had been _wrong_. Clearly Harvar had some kind of hollow leg or something, because Soul was definitely on the strong end up tipsy. It felt great, but he was definitely going to have to stop soon because otherwise Maka was going to have to pour him into bed when they got back to the hotel.

"I dunno, man," he said, voice slightly slurred. "Japan's cool, but it snows too much in S- _hic!_ -Sapporo."

Kilik chuckled. "The way you talk, you'd think you were the one who grew up in Death Valley, not Maka."

Soul shrugged. "Y'get used to this kind of weather after awhile, I guess."

Before he could say more, he was interrupted in extremely pleasant fashion. The only warning Soul had was the click of Maka's kitten heels before a set of slim arms wrapped around his shoulders and his meister plastered herself to his back.

" _Souuuul_ ," Maka purred, in a velvety voice that had his insides churning far more than the booze. "Why have you been so far away all night?"

Soul was pretty sure his face was doing something pretty entertaining, if the way Kilik was trying to hold back laughter and even Harvar had cracked a sly grin was anything to go by. But when Maka popped up on her tiptoes to hook her chin over his shoulder, a wave of her rum-scented breath exhaled against the sensitive skin of his neck, he abruptly forgot that he had been in the middle of a conversation with anyone but her.

"Better question is why you've been so far away all night," he replied. "When we got here you ran right off to talk to Tsubaki."

"You could've come with me," Maka said, and the _way_ she said it… Soul had goosebumps rising on every inch of his body. If Kilik and Harvar (or anyone else, for that matter) was still in the room, he wasn't aware of it anymore.

Trying to pry his brain out of the gutter it had fallen into, he pried her hands off his abdomen and turned around to face her. She looked a hot mess, her hair down and a little disheveled, and her face flushed red with obvious intoxication. It was _amazing_.

"Is that so," he said, raising one eyebrow.

She beamed up at him, throwing her arms back around him and bringing their faces only a few inches apart. "Yep!" she chirped. "I _looove_ having you around."

And just like that, a switch in Soul's brain flipped from horny to smitten, and he couldn't keep from grinning at her. "Can I tell you a secret?" When she nodded, wide-eyed, he revealed, "I really love having you around, too."

Maka dissolved into tipsy giggles as she beamed up at him. Her nimble fingers were twining into the shaggy hairs at the nape of his neck and it was extremely distracting. "You're a pretty weird guy, you know that, Soul?"

If she weren't so damn cute he might have been offended. As it was… "Hey! _Rude_." He put on a false pout, wanting to see if she'd play along with it.

She disentangled one of her hands from his hair and flicked lightly at his lower lip. "Put that away," she teased.

Soul responded by kissing the pad of her finger.

Maka's eyes widened in surprise. "Did you just—?"

"Looks like it," he replied. Some distant, ostensibly sober part of his brain wondered what the hell he was doing, but Tipsy Soul didn't give a fuck. He'd wanted to kiss his meister for years now and now seemed like as good a time as any.

Before he could act on that impulse, though, Maka removed her arms from around him; just as he was working up a good retreat, she grabbed him by the tie.

"Come on, Soul Eater," she said brightly. "I hear Ox and Jackie are setting up for billiards in the other room and like hell am I letting tonight end before I've kicked that smug four-eyes' ass six ways to Vegas."

"I love it when you talk dirty," Soul breathed.

Maka's cocky little smirk was brilliant enough to light up the whole room as far as he was concerned. She gave a tug on the strip of fabric she was still clinging to, urging him in the direction of the door, and Soul dutifully followed along, a broad smile on his face.

There'd be time to get around to the kissing later, he decided. Somehow, he didn't think Maka would mind too much.


End file.
